Chapter 7
1600 Words
Bella
Miro picked us up at the café near the edge of town.
I didn’t want him to pick me up at the house, where Diego and his family would see, giving them more fuel for their flame, and the cafe was quiet enough that no one would notice us slip inside his car.
I was surprised when Lucia ran straight into his arms when she saw him, and he lifted and spun her effortlessly, evoking cute little giggles from her.
The sight did something to my heart, but I didn’t want to admit it.
When he put her down, Lucia climbed into the backseat with her bunny clutched to her chest.
Her small excitement tugged something in me. Something like hope.
Miro glanced at me as he opened the door for me.
“You sure you want to do this today?” His voice was gentle, not probing, just steady with concern.
“Yes,” I said, though the word came out softer than I intended. “I need to.”
He nodded once and then we were off.
Miro glanced at me as he drove, and his expression softened in a way that made something in my chest loosen. He didn’t ask anymore questions yet. He simply drove, giving me space to unravel in my own time.
We drove for nearly an hour out of the city, until we were passing the old stores I used to walk by with my father when I was younger.
Each familiar landmark pressed deeper into me, stirring memories I had spent so long avoiding.
Lucia pointed out the window. “Mommy, look. Horses.” Her voice was soft and delighted.
I smiled faintly. “I see them, sweetheart.”
Miro’s gaze flicked between the rearview mirror and me occasionally, watching us with something warm in his eyes before returning to the road.
When he slowed the car and turned onto a narrow lane shaded by tall trees, I knew before I even saw the sign. My breath wavered, and my hand curled instinctively around my seat.
“You okay?” Miro asked, and Lucia had gone silent.
My throat closed up, so I only nodded.
The gates of the cemetery came into view, one of the secluded places of rest for those in high power.
The car rolled to a stop. Lucia unbuckled herself, but Miro gently reached back.
“Stay with me for a moment,” he told her softly. “Let Mommy go first.”
She nodded, not understanding but trusting him.
I opened the door, and the air felt colder the moment I stepped out. My feet moved slowly along the gravel path as if each step peeled back a layer I’d tried so hard to bury.
My chest tightened when I saw his name ahead, carved into a stone I had never touched before.
My father.
The man I walked away from without looking back.
My knees gave out before I reached it. I sank to the ground, the cool earth pressing through my jeans, and my hands trembled as I reached for the stone. My fingers brushed over his name, and the years I had shoved into a locked corner of my heart erupted all at once.
“Daddy…” The word slipped out in a breath that didn’t feel steady at all. “I’m so sorry.”
The weight of everything I never said came crashing down on me, raw and unfiltered. The quiet world around me blurred as tears filled my eyes, turning the stone and sunlight into something soft and painful.
I bowed my head and let myself feel it. Every regret. Every apology. Every wish that I had been braver, kinder to him and less blinded by the wrong kind of love.
And somewhere behind me, I heard the soft crunch of footsteps as Miro approached with Lucia in his arms, giving me space but not leaving me alone.
I stayed there for a long time, my forehead hovering above the polished stone as if I could somehow feel him through it.
The breeze brushed my cheek, and for a small, fleeting moment I imagined it was him… the way he used to smell when he hugged me after long board meetings, telling me that no matter how busy he became, he would always be my father first.
I didn’t deserve even the memory.
“Daddy… I should have come sooner,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. “I should have apologized. I should have told you that I missed you. Every day. Even when I pretended I didn’t.”
A sob cracked through my chest before I could stop it. I pressed a hand over my mouth, unable to keep myself composed. Lucia watched from Miro’s arms, her big eyes full of confusion, and I hated that she had to see me this way. But I didn’t have the strength to hide any of it.
I whispered things I’d buried years ago.
I had chosen Diego. I had chosen him blindly, recklessly and stubbornly… and I had made that choice at the cost of everything that mattered.
“I was such a fool,” I murmured, every word trembling as it left me. “I gave up everything for a man who couldn’t even show up for his own daughter. I left you alone, Daddy. And you still tried to reach me. Even until the end.”
My voice broke.
Miro knelt beside me, carefully lowering Lucia so she could wrap her tiny arms around my neck. Her warmth grounded me. Her innocence steadied me.
“It’s okay, Mommy,” she whispered. “Grandpa knows you love him.”
The simplicity of her words hit harder than anything else. I held her and let myself breathe through the ache.
Miro remained quiet, but his presence felt like a warmth beside me. He placed a careful hand at my back, and that small touch made my tears fall harder because it felt like support I’d been missing for years.
I didn’t know how long I was there.
When the storm inside me softened into something quieter, I finally stood. My legs wobbled, and Miro caught my elbow gently.
“Take your time,” he murmured.
I exhaled. “I want to leave the house, Miro. I can’t stay there anymore.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Then we’ll get you out,” he finally said. “Whatever you need.”
His certainty made something heavy lift from my shoulders.
“What about your old home that your dad left you. It’s yours.”
“I thought about moving back into Pinehill,” I said, glancing toward the rows of trees. “But it’s too far. I need somewhere closer to Lucia’s school… closer to town.”
Miro considered this quietly. “Did you find somewhere?”
“There’s an apartment near the lakeside shops,” I said. “It’s modest, but… it feels like a place I could breathe.”
“I can help you move there,” he offered. “And I’ll help with any repairs or things you need.”
I looked up at him. “You’ve already done so much.”
“I’ll do whatever you need,” he said simply.
There was no pressure in his tone. Just calm certainty. It made my chest tighten again in a way that came dangerously close to comfort.
We walked toward the car, Lucia tugging at my hand as she tried to avoid stepping on the cracks in the path. I watched her hop and skip, carefree in a place filled with so much heaviness. Children truly knew how to transform a moment.
Once she was buckled in, I leaned against the car door. Since everything that happened, something have been bothering me.
But after today, a sense of closure, I was a bit closer.
“I want to start designing again,” I mumbled in uncertainty.
Miro’s hand settled lightly against the roof of the car as he looked at me in shock.
“You used to?”
“It’s been years,” I replied. “I stopped after the wedding… after everything started falling apart. I told myself I’d go back once the marriage was stable, once I felt like myself again. But it never happened.” I let out a slow breath. “What kind of designer creates wedding gowns when her own marriage turned into a disaster?”
“Your marriage failed because your partner failed you,” Miro said quietly. “Not because you lacked talent or vision.”
I shook my head. “Clients want hope. They want to believe in forever. And I can’t even promise my daughter that her father will show up on time, much less promise someone happiness in a dress I create.”
“You’re not promising them love,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re giving them a moment. A dress that makes them feel beautiful. A piece of art that belongs to their story, not yours.”
My throat tightened again.
“You don’t need to rebuild everything at once,” he added. “Start small… Sketch something. Buy a few fabrics. Let your hands remember what they used to love, then let the rest follow when you’re ready.”
The gentle certainty in his voice soothed an ache I didn’t even realize was aching.
“I want that,” I whispered. “I want to feel like myself again.”
Miro opened the passenger door for me. “Then we’ll make sure you do.”
- Writer
